


Subject 350

by SilentMemento



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Cold War, Gen, Pokemorphs, Unova Region
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 17:28:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17006004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentMemento/pseuds/SilentMemento
Summary: In the 60s, the Pokemon world was at war. Unova suffered from a pink mist that turned humans into Pokémon. Kanto and Johto were one region, ruled by a cruel dictator. Hoenn and Sinnoh were under similar dictatorships. And the only person able to stop it was slowly turning into a Pokemon.Heroes will fall. Sacrifices shall be made. And nothing will ever be the same.





	Subject 350

A thick pink mist had grown large enough to cover the entire Desert Resort, and its voluminous essence was quickly spreading through the dusty streets of Route 4. The harsh rays of the sun reflected off the helmets that were strewn around the now-bloody sand. Sgt. Hannah Graham’s bleary brown eyes surveyed what was left of the battlefield behind the visor of a gasmask. A small part of her brain was highly alert, knowing that the fight could start as quickly as it had ended, but the rest of her was too numb to do anything of use. A cold shudder wove its way through her spine as she sunk to her knees.

 

A part of her gaze caught…it. The sergeant tried to tear her eyes away from the sight, but they remained fixed on the remains of a human she had been forced to shoot.

 

_No, he’s not human. Not anymore. God, what the hell is that mist? Williams, why didn’t you put on your gasmask?_

 

She stared at the mutated corpse of her squad commander. A small red crest had begun to grow on his head, and his glazed eyes were an unnatural pitch-black. His fingernails had grown out, loose patches of skin hung from his neck and arms, and the beginnings of a tail had shot out of his backside. Cruel memories of her commanding officer writhing in agony punctured Graham’s mind, but her thoughts were quickly interrupted by a radio dispatch. A man’s soft voice blared in her ears.

 

“Captain Williams? Sergeant Graham? Are you there? Can you pick up the damned radio already?”

 

Graham quickly pulled out her radio and spoke into it with a voice muffled by the gasmask. “Is that you, Mulligan?” she asked nervously.

 

“Yes, ma’am!” the man replied quickly. “Where’s Captain Williams? What the hell’s with this pink mist?”

 

“Williams is KIA,” the sergeant stated in a blunt tone. She cut off the man’s shocked cry. “Corporal, I need you and the rest of the squad to put on your gas masks _right now_.”

 

A short pause ensued, and anxiety began to fill her mind.

 

_God, what if I’m too late? I can’t lose the entire squad, I don’t know if I could handle it if-_

 

“I’ve alerted them,” Mulligan murmured through his gasmask. “We all have our masks on. Now what the hell is this mist?”

 

“Has anyone breathed it in?” Graham demanded, ignoring the question.

 

Another pause ensued. “I-I don’t know,” the lance corporal stammered.

 

Another voice echoed through her radio. “Ratliffe! Lieutenant Ratliffe’s down!”

 

_Fuck…_

 

“Kill him!” she screamed into the radio. “Kill him before he kills you!”

 

“You’re nuts, Sergeant,” another voice said in her headset. “You probably fragged Williams, and-”

 

“No, listen, the fucking mist-”

 

A loud roar blared from the radio, along with several screams and curses. Soon enough, everything went silent.

 

“Is...is anyone here?” she said. “Please, I’m begging you, is anyone here? Sound off!”

 

Still nothing. Graham wept. She had lost her entire squad. Every man and woman she had fought with, everyone she grew to love...gone in less than a heartbeat..

 

She saw some...thing fly off into the distance. It looked like a Volcarona at first glance, but after the incident with Williams, Graham knew better. That was _Ratliffe_.

 

A crackle from her radio interrupted her thoughts. “Sergeant?” It was PFC. Zydrunas Kavaliauskas, better known as “Cabbie.” His voice was trembling and clearly frightened. “What the hell is going on?”

 

Graham let out a sigh of relief, knowing that she hadn’t lost everything. “In all honesty, Cabbie? I have no idea. All I know is that this mist is a fucking curse and not at all natural. It’s fucking with the wild Pokemon as well. It’s coming from-”

 

“Help me!” a voice said in the distance.

 

Graham turned to the speaker: a young man with an odd...no, not a young man. A freak of nature. She raised her rifle.

 

“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot! I’m unarmed!” the young man wailed, as he grew closer. “I can’t...I can’t breathe!” He clutched at his neck, and it was then that Graham saw why he couldn’t breathe: he had gills.

 

“Stay the fuck away from me, or I _will_ blow your ass to whatever hell you freaks go to when you die,” she snarled behind her gasmask.

 

The half-human fell to his knees and crawled toward the water, clearly in distress. He finally reached the water and heaved himself in before swimming away.

 

“Fuck this shit!” she spat, her voice rising into a crescendo. “FUCK!” She kicked a helmet, immediately regretting it after the pain in her toes.

 

“Sergeant, what do I do?” Cabbie’s voice echoed.

 

Graham hopped on one foot, suppressing the pain with gritted teeth. “I’ll be back, Cabbie,” she said, trying to keep her composure. “We need to talk to the higher-ups about this.”

 

She limped back to the base, not knowing how important the young man with gills would be, not only to humanity’s survival...but to hers as well. 


End file.
